


Tell Me A Piece Of Your History That You're Proud To Call Your Own

by Shaleschnueffler



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Backstory, Best Friends, Brainsharing, Creativity, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Demon Deals, Demons, Family, Friendship, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's kinda weird okay, Nephilim, Praise Misha Collins, Praise SPN, Prophets, Quote: Family Don't End With Blood (Supernatural), SPN family, Self Confidence, Soul Bond, Soulsharing, Support, Tale, Telepathic Bond, Telepathy, Trust, You keep those, and all of them honestly, i love us, it's a gift, mentions of dumbasses, title is from bastille
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2019-12-25 09:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18258098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaleschnueffler/pseuds/Shaleschnueffler
Summary: We got something they can't take away. Our love, our lives.We got something that'll never die. Our dreams, our pride.Or: The story of a lost and corrupted nephilim and a lonely human who found refuge and confidence in each other.





	Tell Me A Piece Of Your History That You're Proud To Call Your Own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alice_huhhuhhhu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alice_huhhuhhhu/gifts).



> Hey there.
> 
> I started writing this in...early February, I think, so it's surely been a while since I typed the first words, and I've been looking forward to finally being able to post it ever since! It's been in my drafts for exactly a month now, heh.
> 
> This is...mostly just a gift, to my friend. It's her story; we made it up together, I can't even remember how it happened if I'm being honest xD  
> But well, it's her birthday today, and she's been so amazingly kind to me all this time that I couldn't help but write this, in honor of her and everything she's created and gone through so far. I know it's not a lot, and not exactly special but...I hope you like it anyway. Both you guys out there and you, Alicia.
> 
> Happy birthday, friend.

Once, there was a lonely child; abandoned by its parents; with no friends and no family, no brothers to follow, and no knowledge of life. A child with no purpose, with no clue what to do, and with nowhere to go. A child, unmeant to be on earth, unwelcome in heaven, unwanted in hell. A nephilim, its mother had deceased and its father had left.  
  
It was wandering the earth, aimless, not knowing what its purpose was, why it was here, why it had been given life.  
  
It felt wrong to walk the earth, to be something else. It felt like everyone was looking at it when it walked the streets, and it didn't know why. It discovered that humans had family, and friends, and a home. The nephilim had neither.  
  
It tried to remove its own powers, attempted to wash it off its body, to cut it out of its skin; it tugged at its halo and ripped out its own feathers; but at the end of the day, when it looked into the mirror, it could still see the faint blue light in its own eyes. Weak, but persistent.  
  
With nowhere to go, and no one to talk to, it had no choice but to revert to its last resort.  
  
It went looking for a demon, and buried a box in the middle of a crossroad; hoping that one of the demons would be foolish enough to make a pact with a nephilim, a creature with no soul, with nothing to give. It appeared, looked the nephilim up and down before it stepped forward, sealing their deal with a kiss. The nephilim was proud, and content, and happy. Tired and thirsty, it left into the night, the last drop of power having left its body.  
  
And so it went; and it found family, and friends, and a home.  
  
When the time came for the demon to reap, the nephilim had already forgotten about its deal. It died that night, as hellhounds ripped it to pieces.  
  
It hadn't thought that demons were able to give people a soul. It hadn't known anything about anything, not even about itself. In its last moments, it wondered where its soul had come from, if it had always had a soul; if it had been taken from someone, if the nephilim had stolen its soul from an innocent human; but there was no time to find an answer before it died.  
  
Its soul, the one it hadn't known it had had, was meant to leave earth, to be taken by the demons, to be tortured and torn apart, but it held on too much. It clung to the nephilim's body, and no force was able to separate them. Nobody knew how, or why. Maybe the human was special, the demons thought. And so they took its body as well.  
  
It spent decades in hell, its soul and will strong enough to hold out and hold on, but in the end, hell made a demon out of the nephilim after all; and its holy soul turned corrupt.  
  
It was a loyal demon, one that didn't ask too many questions despite its curiosity; and because of its loyalty, it didn't take long until it was sent back up, to reap for its king.  
  
And so the nephilim returned to earth, the same earth it had walked on many years ago. But it had been so long that nobody recognized its face. It had been so long that it didn't recognize its home.  
  
The demon saw a chance to find answers to all the questions it had; and so it gave in, and it went to search for these answers.  
  
It settled down in a small town, met all kinds of people; demons, hunters, angels, and monsters. The demon knew that it was different than the others. Maybe it was because it was walking, just walking, with no aim, with no souls to collect, because it hadn't dealt, not once, not yet. Maybe it was because it had a body, something to call its own, unlike all the others. It felt more connected to this world. But it didn't feel like it belonged there, not fully. It was neither angel nor demon, neither human nor monster. It was an abomination. Where to go? What to do? It didn't know.  
  
Maybe it was because it tried to adjust. It _definitely_ was because it tried to adjust. Demons didn't _adjust_. Demons didn't try to be _human_ , didn't try to _fit in_. But the demon did. Trying to lay low, trying to keep a low profile, trying not to be hunted, trying not to be _killed_.  
  
Life turned out harder than it had thought. There were laws and rules it had to follow. Earth was a mess. There were many issues with society, so many that the demon couldn't even count them. It had tried, but it had ceased when it had reached three hundred. It wasn't easy for the demon, and sometimes it wondered if it would be easier if it abandoned its life and did the things that the king was expecting of it instead.  
  
It was judged and laughed at and made fun of. It was in pain, and lost, but it kept going, kept fighting, kept exploring. Something felt oddly familiar about wandering the earth alone, judging stares drilling into its back as it walked.  
  
Years later, it met a human. They didn't talk much at first. Sometimes they did, yes, but mostly they simply lived their own life. They parted ways after two years, didn't talk anymore; not much anyway; and rarely met. But when more years passed, and they discovered they shared more than they had thought, they began to grow closer again. They grew closer, and became friends, and the human found someone it could share its stories with, its thoughts and ideas, and its dreams. It wasn't as lonely anymore. And the demon wasn't as lost as before. They carried each other, kept each other's head above water.  
  
The demon decided to offer the human a deal, about three weeks before Christmas. The human; despite knowing about the demons, and the deals, and the monsters, and its soul; agreed. They sealed their pact with a smile.  
  
The demon marked the human's soul, claimed it its own, but when it touched the soul, something sparked up inside its body. Something angelic. Something that hadn't turned dark, something that hadn't been corrupted.  
  
The demon carried a part of the human's soul. And so, it remembered. Not its whole story, but parts of it, snippets, that it shared with the human in the same way the human shared its soul with the demon.  
  
Days later they noticed they didn't only share a soul, but a mind as well. It scared them at first, both of them, but they learned to accept it; love it even. Once again, they realized they had more in common than they would have thought only a few months ago.  
  
The human and the demon spent hours chatting, and talking, and laughing; trying to find out more about the demon's past. The human told the demon about its angelic friends, and the demon told the human about its kind. They learned from and with each other, and soon they had talked and joked so much that no one could even keep up with their conversations anymore. It wasn't like many people tried to, anyway.  
  
However, what many people _did_ do was listen to their theories and the demon's story. They would ask what they were talking about, and the human and the demon would tell those people where the demon was from, what its life had been like; and although they told nothing but the truth, none of them believed. But the demon and the human, they loved it.  
  
They decided not to care about others. They gathered their courage, and went out into the world, with the goal to get as far away from _normal_ as they possibly could. People talked about them behind their backs, people rolled their eyes at them, and people told them to shut up. But they never cared, and they never listened. Because they were happy, and they would never give that up.  
  
More time passed, more theories were created, the demon's past was revealed a little more with each passing day, and the human found that it was happier than it had ever been. It grew more confident of itself, more eager to be itself; and inside its head, it thanked the demon every single day, although it never said it out loud.  
  
It was months later, a cool and murk winter morning, when the human suddenly lost consciousness. Waking up with its ears ringing, it was confused. It didn't know why it had fainted, if maybe there was something wrong with it. And so it told the demon about what had happened, wondering if its friend had an explanation; and when it mentioned the ringing, the demon mentioned the angels, and their talking. Soon, the human understood - it had been called by God. It was a prophet of the Lord.  
  
Things didn't exactly change after that event. They kept talking about the same things, they kept laughing about the same jokes; the only difference was that they didn't only talk about the demon anymore, but about the prophet as well. They tried to figure out what the prophet's task was, if and when it would die before its 10 years had run out, which archangel protected the prophet - agreeing on Gabriel at the end of the day. They talked about the demons and angels threatening the prophet's and the demon's shared soul, they talked about the demon and its abilities to recognize angelic, demonic, _supernatural_ creatures.  
  
They created masterpieces together, they praised each other's works, and they supported each other.  
  
It was like the happiness would never fade.  
  
Even when things got rough for both the demon and the prophet, they tried their hardest, tried to fight, and to lift each other up at all times. They lost companions along the way, they hurt and disappointed people, and they cried more tears than they could possibly count. Yes, they gave in sometimes; but they never gave up, not once. They held on to each other. They held on to their life, to their friendship, to their anchor.  
  
One day, life came tumbling down on them. It was hard. Harder than it had ever been for them. They'd lost their home, their family, everything they'd had. Or so they'd thought. It took them some time, but in the end, they realized they still had each other; would have each other; forever and for all eternity. Their family would be there for them, through the good, bad, all of it. They kept holding on to each other, kept holding on to their family, to their home, to their happiness, their faith, even when it hurt, even when things got rough. Even when they felt close to giving up. And they were eternally grateful. Grateful for everything that had brought them here, that had led them down this road.  
  
They never managed to find the nephilim's parents.  
  
But they didn't have to.  
  
Because the demon had found her family.  
  
And the prophet had found hers.  
  
Because family don't end with blood. But it doesn't start there, either.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, what can I say?
> 
> I don't know if I wrote this so I at least had some kind of gift for you, or just so I had a reason to tell you all the things I've never said out loud. It's probably both. And although I've already mentioned many things in this small piece, I'd like to say some more, just because I haven't had the chance so far:
> 
> I'm really grateful for the talks and laughs we've shared, and the theories and idiotic headcanons we've come up with. I love talking to you, and you've become such an amazing friend over the past months. If not my best. Supernatural brought us together again, and Supernatural has become our home; and I am so utterly thankful for that. You are as weird as me, as crazy as me, as insane as me; and you're one of the few persons that I can share all my thoughts with. We share the same interests, the same humor; we drop references, even if the other one's not around; we make up headcanons that make no sense at all; we have the weirdest ideas and plans for our future (mostly graduation); we listen to each other; and we kind of share a mind(set). We gift each other artworks and stories; support each other during the process; motivate each other to keep going, or calm each other by saying "It's okay, don't pressure yourself"; and I trust you with every fiber of my body. You know things about me that nobody else knows, you know my secrets and struggles and every last detail of the fights I'm fighting. And you're always there to shield me.
> 
> You've always been so kind to me, commenting on my stories, joking and messing around with me, laughing about my jokes, and creating marvelous artworks for me. Getting into this amazing fandom with such an amazing person is one of the best things that's happened to me in the past months; and I appreciate every single one of our talks. I appreciate our references, our memes, and our insiders - everything from huhhuhhhu and Feuerlöschfahrzeug over the five salads and souls in Lucifer up to "It's not complete without a Misha", SUBernatural, dicks, and the Gabriel Headcanon running gag (or running truth?). I'm happier than I've ever been, with you and this amazing fandom keeping me upright.
> 
> And this fandom WILL keep me upright. Because it will never die. Supernatural will never end.
> 
> I don't know what to say anymore, I feel like I just kept repeating the same things over and over again, but I'm trying to keep this as true and honest as possible which is why I'm not deleting any of the stuff I've written.
> 
> (If you want me to write anything for you, feel free to inform me - I'll try, I guess?)
> 
> I'm glad I got to know you; and I'm glad you read my fanfiction back then; and I'm glad you fell in love with the same series as me. I'm glad you're my friend, my BSF, the one I can share my artworks, and ideas, and drafts, and stories with. You are important to me. Never forget that you matter. And never forget that you are someone. To me and to this family.
> 
> Thank you for everything you've done for me.
> 
> I love you.
> 
> And when I said that you're family - I meant it.


End file.
